


The Five Stages of Grief

by DecemberKat



Category: Hannibal (TV), Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Brothers, Estrangement, Gen, Hospitals, Mentions of Suicide, Post-Episode: s02e07 Yakimono, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecemberKat/pseuds/DecemberKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rafael goes to visit his twin brother in the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Stages of Grief

When Rafael walked into his brother's hospital room he was unprepared to see just how ill his brother looked. Frederick was the palest he had ever seen, with gaunt cheekbones and gauze covering nearly half of his face. His hands were limp, and the few extra pounds neither of them had ever been able to shake off where gone. Rafael sat down beside his bedside and fidgeted with the coat in his lap. His brother stirred and opened his eyes blearily.  
“Rafi? Is that you?” he mumbled.  
“Who else would it be, Frederick?” Rafael said in an attempt at levity. “I heard that you've been cleared of all charges. Apparently H-- the man who attacked out left quite a scene at, um... anyway, they don't think you did it anymore. That's good news!” Frederick tried to smile, but it was obviously still painful. “You get your bandages off soon too, I hear.”  
“Yeah,” Frederick confirmed. “I'll have... quite a scar, though.” Rafael looked away from his brother. He wasn't used to seeing his brother like this. After Gideon's attack, Frederick had been either drugged up, angry and defensive, or both. Now he just looked defeated.  
“You're still alive, Frederick,” the prosecutor reminded him. “The hospital's going to give you back your position, the FBI's going to issue a public apology--”  
“Rafi,” his brother said. Rafael looked up. “I know you're trying to make me feel better, but that's not going to work. I'm tired, hermano. I feel like a cockroach that's been stepped on a couple times. Y'know, that's what people have started calling me now. The Cockroach. There have been so many attempts on my life,” Frederick laughed joylessly. “I'm starting to think the universe is trying to tell me something.” Rafael felt his heart sink to the floor.  
“Frederick, no. No, this is not you, this is...”  
“The post traumatic stress disorder talking, I know. I heard you the first thousand times you said it.”  
“Alright, fine, you don't want my help, fine, alright, that's your choice. But hear me out. I know people with PTSD. People who are specifically trained for dangerous situations, you never were. C'mon, it's not the end of the world if you get someone to talk to! You need help, but you never ask for it, that- that's always been your problem,” Rafael stood up to leave. “You'd rather people think you walk with a cane for show and not because Gideon smashed out one of your kneecaps,” The look on Frederick's face tugged at Rafael's conscience; he was hurting his brother, and he knew it. “You need to find someone to help you recover,” He looked back at Frederick, his twin, younger by only a few minutes, but still in need of his protection despite all the years, many of which they spent not talking, leading separate lives as though they were strangers. “Frederick,” Rafael said after a moment. “You're still my brother, and I want you to be happy. For your own sake, please find a therapist. You need to talk to someone.” Frederick was silent for a long time.  
“Rafi,” he said finally. “Get out.”  
“Frederick...”  
“GET OUT!” his brother shouted. Rafael turned and headed towards the door. He paused for a moment.  
“Just... find someone. Please.” With that, he was gone, nearly bowling over a diminutive, red-headed woman in the hallway. When he reached his car, he stopped, head on the steering wheel. He loved his brother, he truly did. But he couldn't force him to do anything he didn't want to, not even if it meant losing him permanently.


End file.
